


Don't Be Late To Your Own Gangbang

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Choking, Crossdressing, F/M, Gangbang, M/M, Oral Sex, Podfic Welcome, Public Sex, Sex Swing, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, butt plug, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Klaus needs to get out of his head for a little bit.





	Don't Be Late To Your Own Gangbang

**Author's Note:**

> There is a brief mention of a pierced cock in here - not enough to merit a tag, but if that's a squick, maybe give this one a miss.
> 
> Thank you to Elextra XT, my ever excellent beta!

Klaus Hargreeves had the sinking sensation that he was out of practice. He tried not to pay too much attention to it, as he got ready to go out. Most of it was sense memory at this point. Apply lipstick like _so_ , add the glitter for his beard, eyeliner, eye shadow, rouge. 

The club was going to be dark, but it was as much for himself as for whoever would be looking at him, even if he didn't really want anyone to look at him. 

Well, not at his face, at any rate. 

He paused, clenched around the plug in his ass, just to remind himself. He hadn't ever done this sober— not this kind of thing, at any rate. It hadn't ever been this organized, either. He had needed to call ahead and... arrange things. But he could do this. 

He had done it before, and how difficult could it be? Even sober, it wasn't _that_ complex. Easy as falling off a log. Although he didn’t want to fall off of anything, in this case. But he could do it. He’d done it when he was a junkie in his twenties, he could do it as a sober member of society in his thirties. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, and he wrinkled his nose. There he was. He wasn’t like he used to be, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “What’s the worst that can happen?” he asked his reflection. Then he wrinkled his nose. “You’ll be the pathetic old dude in the corner waiting for the gangbang that’s never going to happen.” 

Klaus sighed, and mussed his hair up a bit more, to make it look more artfully ruffled. “There are worse things,” he told his reflection. “Many worse things.” 

If only he could think of any of them. 

But fuck it. He’d made the arrangements. He’d even talked to the organizers of the party, horror of horrors. So he’d go, maybe he’d be disappointed, maybe he wouldn’t be, but who gave a fuck. It’d be better than spending another godforsaken night listening to Luther pace the halls or Diego come in at some weird hour, to say nothing of the pointed silence that seemed to settle around Vanya like a stifling blanket, or the way Allison kept trying to break it with her own increasingly anxious chatter. They were all getting better— Klaus could tell they were all getting better. But god, it was hard. 

Life had been easier when he was still using. Easier, less boring… but also a lot _less._ It was just a case of finding the balance at this point. Which was why he was… going to a pre-arranged gangbang at the local fetish club. That was totally a normal way to deal with the anxiety of family strife, right?

Totally normal. 

* * *

Fetish clubs seemed less weird while sober. The mural on the wall was still the ugliest thing that Klaus had ever seen, and now that he cared about how people looked at him, he was noticing a lot more of them. He hoped he didn’t look too ridiculous, in a mesh shirt, his sister’s “borrowed” skirt and high heels, but fuck it. 

Sex swings weren't as easy to get into as they had been when he was a lithe young ingenue. Or so stoned that he couldn't tell up from down. And now he needed help getting adjusted. But at least there were a few nice people to help him up, tighten some straps. He exchanged a few awkward smiles, and wondered vaguely if they would join in. 

Now there wasn't much to do but don the blindfold. He had arrived early, admittedly, but if you didn't show up on time for your own gangbang, what _did_ you show up on time for? He had taken the panties off, and the skirt was draped demurely across his crotch, hiding his cock. His ass was on full display, though, and he wondered whether anyone was looking. 

That was what the blindfold was for. In theory, at least, he would stop caring about people looking at him or not. He wasn't sure if it would work, but hey, at least it was quiet. 

A hand was on his thigh, and he jumped. It was warmer than he expected— he was used to his own frozen hands. He sighed, as the hand moved under his skirt, towards the curve of his ass. He wanted to make a quip; say something witty. Show that he was more than just a body. But that was what he wanted to be, wasn't it? He wanted to be a body, not all of the thoughts that were constantly racing through his head. 

The hand on his thigh had reached the base of the plug inside of him. It twisted, and Klaus hissed, his thighs tensing up. Another hand came to cradle his balls, squeezing them gently as the plug was twisted some more. His cock was twitching up against the fabric of the skirt, and he let his head loll back. The plug was pulled out of his ass, and then his hole was empty, twitching around nothing. A blunt finger slid into him, thrusting, then curved, and he sighed, his toes curling in his heels. 

Another finger slid in, and Klaus heard some kind of appreciative noise. He wondered, faintly who it was, but that didn’t matter, did it? His cock was already starting to leak— he hoped he wouldn’t come too quickly. Maybe he should have worn a cock ring, to delay it a bit. He grunted, shifting, and the swing moved with it. That was an odd sensation. He’d been in one of those when he was high, who knew how many years ago, and the feeling of floating had been perfect. He wondered if that was what it was like to be a ghost; to float, to be unmoored from gravity, or at least be less attached to it. 

But he wasn’t going to focus on ghosts. This wasn’t a time to think about ghosts. This was a time to think about the way those fingers felt, spreading inside of him, stretching him open. He tried not to make too much noise, clenching around the fingers, and he let himself shake, as his body opened up to allow a different body into his own. The fingers inside of him were hot, and the they were solid. There were bony hips pressing into his thighs, and then the fingers were being withdrawn, and something else hot and slick was pressing into him.

It was a cock. He’d had a cock inside of him before— he’d had so many cocks in him over the years, flesh and silicone and glass and who even knew what else. And yet every breach always felt like the first time— the shock of intimate connection, the intensity of another human body so close to his own. Maybe he was getting maudlin, lost in his own head. 

He’d come here to get out of his head. Maybe he needed to work harder on that.

The man was pushing his dick into Klaus slowly, deliberately, and Klaus seemed to be feeling every inch of it. There were a lot of inches, although then again, his ass had never been good at measuring depths. The term _rectal spectrometer_ fluttered across his mind like a butterfly, and he snickered, then full on laughed as he the stranger bottomed out, their pubic hair scratchy against his own balls.

“That feels nice,” said the strange man, and Klaus was immediately endeared. Good on him for not getting offended, but enjoying the sensation. 

“It’s complicated,” Klaus said, and he groaned, as his inner thighs were squeezed, and the cock inside of him drew out, then pushed back in. The swing was moving with every thrust, and that was a novel sensation - like fucking in a hammock, minus the feeling of being about to fall on your face. 

(Klaus had only fucked in a hammock once, and it had gone about as well as you could expect.)

“Most things are,” said the stranger, and then he was letting go of Klaus’s thighs, to grasp at the chains holding the swing up. The leverage pulled and pushed Klaus on the stranger’s dick, and Klaus clenched around it, and rode the sensations. The friction was _good_ , and so was the blunt heat of it, sliding in and out of him. He moaned, letting his legs fall even wider open, and his cock was slapping against his belly as the swing shook. The stranger was moaning, and he had a good voice for it— breaking occasionally, mumbling little bits of obscenity, and Klaus clutched at the chains, trying to keep his balance.

There was something appealing about being almost helpless. He had next to no leverage, he was just here to be fucked. He was even at dick height, and the idea of someone being able to just… walk over and plug him up let him trembling. It was like that story of the kid who stuck his finger in a dam, only it was Klaus's ass and they weren't keeping anything in. 

"You're laughing again," the stranger said, and he was pulling himself closer, his hips speeding up. The slap of skin on skin was very loud. 

"Wandering mind," Klaus murmured, and then he gasped, as the stranger pushed himself in as deep as he could get. He was panting, and his cock pulsed inside of Klaus, his sweaty skin sliding along the insides of Klaus's thighs. He was wearing a condom, and Klaus missed the shot of heat deep inside of him. Still, the club had rules about bodily fluids, and Klaus could at least try to follow the rules. It would hopefully lead to more gangbangs. 

The stranger pulled out, and he patted Klaus on the thigh. "Thanks," he said, and then he was off to who knew where. 

Klaus dangled there, shaking, his ass clenching around nothing. He shuddered again as another hand grabbed his ankle, forcing his legs open wider. His skirt was flipped up, and then a hand was wrapping around his cock, giving it a stroke, then moving to squeeze his thigh. 

Klaus groaned, and his toes curled. Another hand was grabbing his ankle, and that had to be a second person, or else he had some kind of three armed person who had decided to come to a random sex club on the outskirts of Bricktown. There were fingers on the very edge of his hole, then fingertips, and he gasped. 

There were fingers in his ass, and then there were different fingers in his mouth. The fingers in his mouth were covered by gloves, and it tasted like latex. He sucked, sliding his tongue between two fingers, and he was already drooling down his chin. _Good thing they're wearing gloves_ , Klaus thought dazedly, _or they would have to wash their hands like five times. This shit stains._

The fingers in his ass were removed, and then his cheeks were being spread open. He couldn't see the way they were looking at him, but he could hear the soft conversation. He must have looked a mess, already fucked open, lube smeared across his inner thighs. 

A cock was pushed into his ass again, and this one was thicker. The fingers in his mouth pressed down on his tongue, and he hollowed his cheeks out like he was sucking a cock. 

The person fucking him this time pushed his knees up towards his chest. Someone was breathing on his chest, and the sweat dripped down onto his chest. There was a mouth on his nipple, and he clenched around the thick cock inside of him. The person over him moaned, and the fingers in his mouth hooked in his cheek, then turned his face over. There was a cock pressing against his lips, and he opened his mouth, letting it in. 

He was being fucked on both ends, and the darkness of the blindfold was comforting. He didn't care how dumb he looked, as he was shaken by the thrusts of the person between his legs. He sucked on the cock in his mouth, and the latex flavor of the condom filled up his whole head. He let his tongue flick along the underside of the cock, feeling the shape of the head under his tongue. He was already sloppy with it. 

He was being filled with cock on both ends - did this count as spit roasting? Or was that just when the stuffee was on all fours? He tried to imagine how something being roasted on a spit over a fire would look, clutching at the chain holding the swing up and letting himself be shaken as he was fucked by strangers. 

Then all thought fled his mind, because someone was rolling a condom onto his cock, and that had capital "I" implications. Implications that were coming to fruition, as a hot, wet mouth lowered myself onto his cock, and then he was deep throated. It was all in one go, too— a little bit of gagging, then the man who was fucking him made some surprised noise, and there was some comment about… something, but Klaus wasn’t paying attention. 

The first blow landed on his inner thigh and he cried out around the cock in his mouth. The pain was a shockwave, and that seemed to be feeding the pleasure, the sensation of being filled, and then the cock in his ass was pulsing, and then the man inside of him was coming, and Klaus gasped as his ass was slapped again, and people were possibly talking about his ass. He couldn’t tell at this point, because his nose was up against someone’s belly, and then someone was grabbing his hand, putting it on their arm. 

“I’m going to choke you,” the person holding on to his hand said. “They said you liked that.”

Klaus gave an awkward thumbs up. The man who had been fucking him pulled out, and the mouth on his cock was teasing, little kitten licks to the tip that made his cock twitch in the condom. 

“Hold on to my hip,” said whoever it was. Klaus couldn’t see, didn’t want to. He held on to their hip, and the cock went back down his throat, as his nose was pinched shut. A new cock slid inside of him, and the mouth on his cock was taking him deeper now, teeth scraping gently along the underside of it. His eyes were running, and he was getting his own drool all over whoever’s balls these were. The pressure in his head was getting tighter, and the cock in his throat was prodding things it probably shouldn’t have— he was going to have an absolutely _wrecked_ voice after all of this. 

A new cock was being pushed into his ass, and this one felt like it had a piercing - a Prince Albert, maybe? And something else, something nubbly. He was reminded of those weird silicone dildos he’d seen in a certain class of magazine. Then more hits were being rained down onto his ass, in time with the thrusts, and some of those hits were landing on his thighs. His cock was in the open air again, and his _balls_ were being sucked on, sloppy and wet. They must have been coordinating carefully with whoever was fucking him— the cock in his ass was almost all the way out now, and blows were being delivered again and again. 

The fingers pinching his nose let go, and then someone was grabbing his other hand, and a glove was being forced onto it. It was an odd sensation, to be true, but it was one among many. Then his fingers were inside of something hot and tight, and... yeah, that was a pussy. He’d fingered enough pussies to know what one felt like, even through gloves. His hand was being used to get someone off, and that was what he was here for, wasn’t it?

He wriggled his fingers to the best of his ability, and he sucked the cock in his mouth, as his cock was sucked and stroked, as the cock inside of him was driving down deeper inside of him, and the whole thing was being shaken, as his nose was being held closed. He didn’t know how good his fingering might be, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t here to be good at anything. He wondered, faintly, if she’d climb up and ride his cock— would the swing even be able to take that?

His nose was released, and he gasped, again, and the cock that had been pressed inside of his throat withdrew, until it was just the tip resting on his lower lip. The condom must have been filling up, because it was getting warmer, and the body over him was gasping and shaking. Klaus took a deep breath, and everything tasted like latex, but the air was sweeter than Kosher wine. He shuddered as a tongue swirled along the head of his cock, concentrating on the delicate spot right under the head, poking under his foreskin. It did feel a bit odd, through the condom, but he wouldn’t think about it too much. He was on the edge of his orgasm, and the spanking was still happening, the cunt around his fingers was spasming, so he must have been doing something right…

Klaus sank into his own body like he’d get into the bath, and he let the overlapping sensations pile on top of him like snow, suffocating him, bringing him back into himself. He was crying behind his blindfold as he came, filling the condom, and a hand was cupping his cheek, collecting his tears, pressing them into his mouth. Someone was saying something soothing, but he couldn’t understand what it was. It didn’t matter - the sentiment was what mattered, right? He kissed the thumb smeared with his tears, as the cock inside of his ass pulsed, and someone’s hands carefully removed his used condom. His hand was being removed from the cunt, and now it was wrapping around someone’s cock. 

Someone was kissing him, and his tears were rubbing into their cheeks. There were fingers tweaking his nipplest, and the pierced cock was withdrawing, to be replaced with another cock, this one long and narrow. He grunted, squeezed around it, and he moaned into the kiss, as long hair pattered down around his face, and he could faintly smell perfume. His mouth still tasted like latex, but the person kissing him had been eating something fruity and juicy, and he chased the taste, as their tongue slid into his own. He was utterly anchored in his own flesh, more than he’d been since he’d gone sober, and he hadn’t realized how badly he needed it.

And the night was still young.

* * *

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Diego said, giving Klaus a sidelong look. “What did you do?”

“A whole bunch of shit,” Klaus mumbled, curling up in the back seat of Diego’s car. He was still walking a little funny, and he was probably covered in hickeys. At least Diego had been willing to pick him up.

“Evidently,” Diego said. 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Klaus mumbled, curling into a tighter ball, his eyes already drooping shut. The last thing he heard, before he fell asleep, was the sound of the car turning on and Diego's grumbling. Then he was down for the count, lulled by the gentle rocking. 

He was _so_ going to go back next month.


End file.
